The Penn's Grove record., 1887-07-09
THE DAWNING OF THE DAY.

We were two sisters, Gala and l.
We had been drawn together more
than sisters usually are, after mar
rage, by the sadness of u positions.
Left orphans at an early age, a bache-
lor uncle had taken us to his home, aud
we thought to his heart, until we were
married.
Gala, at the age Of sixteen, had
married a gay young man who led her
a sad life. He seemed never to be
happy unless at some low dancing party
or among his drinking companions; if
she demonstrated with him harsh
words were sure to follow; and as her
little home often lacked the necessaries
of life, her lot had been a hard one.
But he at length, poor fellow, died OF
his excuses, leaving Gala a sad young
creature of only twenty summers.
Two years before poor Charles
death / too had married, ana my hus-
band, too, was gay and bright. Ills
worst fault was that he was a young
sailor. But my uncle did not quite
discard me, as he did my sister, perhaps
because he would have lacked a house
keeper had he sent me away; yet many
were the bitter words that 1 had to lis
ten to after Harry's ship had sailed and
he did not return, from my suspicious
Uncle Jacob.
1t was two years since / had heard
from Harry, and the little stock OF
money he had left me had entirely given
out, when / received a piteous letter
from my sister. telling me she was very
ill, that her husband was dead, and
that she needed everything, clothes,
loving care and money. ! took this
letters to my uncle's. room, with the
tears creeping down my cheeks, and |
heard him grumble as l opened the
door
''Blamed hard lines on a man to have
two girls natural born foolsi"
l laid the letter before him with
some misgIvings, remembering the care
less words Gala had addressed to him
when she left with her husband four
years ago, and which l knew were un.
forgiven. The stern lines on Uncle
Jacobs face deepened as he read.
'tAhal she's got just what l told her
she would get."
"But, uncle, may l not 60 for her
and her baby and bring them homer"
"Here? A sick woman and a squall-
ing bratP 1 did not think you were
such a fooll"
"But. uncle" l urged, SIT is Gala"
"It's q FOOL" he shouted. "Don't
you think a crying grass widow Is
enough to have around without a drunk
ards wife, with a brat thrown in2"
81 shall go to her Immediately" re-
turned 7, choking down my feelings.
$50 If you wish to-" he screamed
''But If you do, don't you eyer come
into my house again-don't you dare
toll"
"Oh, uncle, I must go! It's my own
sister; ! never could lest again if l did
not go to her,"
Eyes, yes, that's always the way.
Forsake those who give you bread to
eat, and clothes TO wear. Marry ras-
Gals, every girl Of you, run through
everything, then come coaxing back
again to be supported l told that girl
what kind of a bed she was making for
herself, now let her lie in it."
"But, UNCLE" l answered, sobblng,
''you have everything, a home, and
servants to walt on you, thousands OF
dollars in money. You have been very
kind to give me a home, but still poor
Gala has nothing. l must, indeed, l
must help her."
"Iielpl Pretty help you'll bell he
sneered as l left the room.
But | sold some OF my costly clothing
and | went. / found my sister but the
shadow of her former self, with o puny
little babe In her arms. / nursed her
back to health as carefully as l could.
and then the struggle for existence
began. 1t was very hard, utterly mex
perienced as 1 was, but with Gods
help we made our way.
Little Gertie, my namesake, grew
into a very little cherub, the pride and
Joy of our two lonely hearts. Gala
became rosy-cheeked and happy again,
and /, though l had my own secret
trouble, was happier than l had ever
been while enduring the taunts of my
irascible uncle.
l had learned from a correspondent
at my old home that our uncle had sold
out his property and gone to New York
TO live with his sister, our Aunt Char
ity, as much worse a specimen of crab
bedness than Uncle Jacob as it was
possible to be.
During all this time | had not heard
from Harry, and l accustomed myself
to think of him as lying among the
rocks and seaweed at the bottom of the
sea.
AT length there came a telegram.
The poor old man was dead. We went
Immediately to Aunt Charity who APP
peared to think that all we came for
was to hear the contents of the will.
She told us Immediately that her brother
had left all his property to her, and ex-
pressed her astonishment that we
showed no more feeling upon the sub
lect. Just as We were leaving she said
to us pitylngly-
"Now IL you girls had minded Jacob
about marrying, he would have left
Ypu some OF his property, | know"
$50 you think, Aunt Charity" said
Gala, lightly, ''he would have liked US
better If VIZ had been old maids?n
"Well, l guess old maids is as good
as Widders, especially them as don't
know whether their mems alive or not, "
she retorted sharply.
Poor Aunt Charity had taken Calais
careless speech as a taunt Of her own
spinsterhood, and retaliated.
"Oh, well, Aunt Charity" put in
quickly, 1--WE can support ourselves,
and ! am really glad Uncle Jacob gave